


Technically, it's still drunk

by DizzyDrea



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Brothers, Drunkenness, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-26
Updated: 2012-02-26
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don discovers how Charlie deals with a bad date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technically, it's still drunk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [numb3rs100](http://numb3rs100.livejournal.com/) Prompt #141 – Alcohol
> 
> This was supposed to be written ages ago. Back when I wrote Broken Bonds, Broken Hearts, it was my second dark—and I do mean dark—drabble in a row, and I desperately needed something silly and fluffy to counteract all the dark. A friend gave me the prompt Happy!Stoned!Charlie. I couldn't seem to find that Charlie, but I did scare up Drunk!Charlie.
> 
> Originally posted on LiveJournal.
> 
> Disclaimer: Numb3rs belongs to The Barry Schindel Company, Scott Free Productions, CBS Television Studios and a lot of other people who aren't me. I'm doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~ 

Don pushed through the front door of the Craftsman, the end of a long week tugging at him. It was past midnight, so he figured he'd just raid the fridge and then crash upstairs. Breakfast with his father and brother would chase away the lingering ghosts from this case, and he was actually looking forward to it. 

A sound from the living room had him diverting from his destination. The room was dark but for the flicker of the TV. He could make out what looked like shoes on the couch—with the feet still in them. His eyes followed the legs down to the floor where his brother sprawled, head tipped back, staring into nothing. 

"Charlie?" 

The mop of curls swung his direction. "Hey, Don." 

Charlie's voice seemed off somehow, though he really couldn’t pinpoint the reason. He stepped closer, looming over his brother but still unable to see much. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Having a beer," Charlie said, holding up the bottle. Some of the alcohol sloshed out, but Charlie appeared not to notice. 

"Are you drunk?" 

Charlie's hand shot up, thumb and finger spaced close together. "Little bit." His head lolled toward Don. "Also, smashed. Wasted. Blitzed. Blotto." 

He giggled; Don scowled. "What brought that on?" 

A shrug. "Had a date with Amita. Epic fail." 

Don shook his head. "So you decide to get drunk?" He leaned over and plucked the beer out of his hand, depositing it on the coffee table. No way he was getting an inebriated Charlie upstairs, so he dragged him onto the couch and threw a blanket over him. 

"Technically not stoned," he said seriously. "Sloshed. Why do they call it sloshed?" 

Charlie giggled again. Don rolled his eyes. "Sleep, Charlie. It's called sleep." 

He shouldn't have bothered; Charlie was already snoring. 

~Finis


End file.
